


A seedling in a Rotten Heart

by Yuffie_Myrioku



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe?, Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-23 17:42:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16623509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuffie_Myrioku/pseuds/Yuffie_Myrioku
Summary: Something random I thought of while working on the other stories. Hope it's good..Years of abuse caused a good heart to rot with hatred, creating a monster that only knew violence. Until he meets someone similar to him





	A seedling in a Rotten Heart

The Thompsons were finally blessed with a child after several years of trying, doctor visits, and prayers. But to their despair, the child wasn't perfect. Yes, he had two arms, two legs, ten fingers and ten toes and he was healthy. From the chest down, the baby was normal. From shoulders up was a different story. Folds of flesh stretched from his face to his right shoulder, deforming his facial features and seemingly threaten to pull the skin from his skull if moved wrong. 

What should have been pure love was nothing more than hatred for this innocent boy. All throughout infancy, Evelyn and Max ignored his cries, hoping and praying for him to cry himself to death. Even resorting to having the farmhands tend to him who all dubbed the baby "Maxie" or "Junior" since his parents didn't have the decency to name him. 

One night, the father got so angry after getting woken up in the middle of the night that he took a stapler to the child's head. Maxie fell quiet. Satisfied that they were finally rid of their abomination of a son, Max Sr. went back to bed.  
To his horror, the infant stared back at him, giggling happily while playing with his toes the next morning, tiny bits of metal still embedded in his forehead. Telling his wife what he had done, they began to prey for forgiveness.

Once the baby was old enough to eat on his own, they led him to the cellar. In a corner stood a brick wall, a starting of what would be his prison for years to come. They set the boy in the corner and began to finish bricking up the cell. He watched, giggling as if it was all a game. He thought they were finally playing with him. He hurried over to them only to get met with a harsh slap to the face from his mother, hard enough to send the boy to the floor. He stayed where he fell, crying as they finished the wall and left him.

Over several days, the farmhands that raised him up to this point tried getting him out, confronting his horrible family or getting the police involved. Each attempt had ended with shotgun blasts, sledge hammer blows or bribes until they just stopped entirely, but not before a chisel rolled underneath the tray slot.

Days turned to weeks, then months and pretty quickly years. Maxie remembered every muffled voice, every stale and rotten dinner, and every glare through the hole at floor level. He was very smart and steadily growing angrier. All the love he had for his mother and father was now nothing more than hatred. The boy listened to every sound, watched every tiny movement he could see from the gap or window that was barely above ground level that they had bolted shut as he chipped away at the brick surrounding the brass.

Little by little, the clay crumbled until he found a weak spot and half the wall fell away. With a victorious bellow, he was free! At long last, the monster that Evelyn and Max Thompson unwittingly created through nearly two decades of neglect and cruelty was free!

If only they had shown their son the love and care he deserved. Perhaps then they would not have met the hungry blade of a chainsaw or be bludgeoned to death the same way the farmhand that once took care of the boy did the night the chisel found his grasp and their farm wouldn't have been bathed in their blood..

 

~~*~~

 

"Get back here, you little freak!"

Angry voices pulled Max out of his trance. Looking up from the chainsaw that he was blissfully cleaning while sitting in his father's plush armchair with the radio softly playing. Turning the music off to be certain he had heard right. There were more shouts that quickly followed by a shriek. The tall, disfigured man stood, grabbing a hold of his prized device while doing so in a quick motion. With only a few heavy strides, he was throwing the front door open and soon standing on the front porch, overlooking the cornfield.

There, just beyond the corn, by the combine harvester stood a group of men. Max let out a deep, bestial roar as he revved up his chainsaw and sprinted straight towards them with it raised over his head at an inhuman rate. How dare they trespass on His farm?  
The men heard the machine revving and looked up to see the hillbilly coming at them. They quickly turned tail and ran, but Max was too fast for them. The teeth of his saw blade chewed through one's back and stomach, the he slammed another on the ground and brought a heavy boot down upon his head, before chasing the remaining four.

It didn't take long before Max returned, wiping blood from his face with the back of his wrist. Getting to work picking up the bodies to stash them in the barn like he did with the Thompsons, he noticed something curled up. Was this what the men were after? Curious to know what it was, the hillbilly kicked it. The bundle groaned then curled up in a tighter ball, whimpering with hands covering it's face and head. 

"I'm sorry!" it cried in fear and pain. "I promise to be good!"  
Max tilted his head as he listened to the tiny voice. Reaching down, he pried the child's arm from their head.  
"You.... Like me?" He asked the best he could despite never being properly taught how to speak while looking at the small hand in his massive one. Max took note that the child was missing a finger. There were no signs of amputation, like it never developed. His gaze followed the hand down to the arm, then shoulder to finally rest on the cowering child. It was a girl. No older than eight and covered from head to toe in bruises, scars and filth. The grimy white dress hanging loosely from bones protruding beneath skin from melnourishment and black hair all matted up. The next word to leave his lips was one he has heard his entire life. "Unwanted?"

The girl was still on the ground, frozen in fear as she gazed up at the hillbilly. Her right eye swollen from the fresh beating the men had dished out before getting cut down. She gave the twisted man a short nod and was hoisted to her feet roughly despite Max trying to be gentle.  
Soon, she was in his arms. He bent down to retrieve his chainsaw once he had a secure grip on the girl. Her green eyes went even bigger at the sight of fresh blood on the wicked machine. Throwing her arms around his thick neck, the girl whimpered as she tried to make herself small against him.  
"No cry.. You safe now, little one."

~~*~~

 

It had been a year since the day Max broke out of his prison and took revenge on those that locked him away. It took months for all of the rage to disperse. Months of nearly collapsing the house and completely massacring anything that moved.... Old habits die hard. But, he found a productive way to spend his time when nothing ventured onto the farm. Repairing. Max was brilliant when it came to tinkering. Fixing near impossible things. The radio, TV, the combine and the washer and dryer.. Okay. Maybe not the washer and dryer. He couldn't figure out how to work them, so he took the sledge hammer to them. Suckers came out smaller than any compacter could do and he was stress free that entire day.  
Now, he stood in the doorway, holding a child that he could easily crush without a thought. Max limped inside the house, elbowing the door shut before dropping the chainsaw in his father's chair and carrying the girl upstairs to the bathroom. His grip loosened to let her slide down to the floor then he points to the tub.

"Clean up.. If want to.." the Hillbilly said before limping out the door, leaving it open. His heavy, uneven footsteps trail down the hall and into another room where grunts and deep bellows of annoyance sound.  
The girl stayed frozen, thin arms crossed over her frail body as she slowly turned to look at the tub. Her attention snapped back to the door as Max hurried by and tossed a lavender article of clothing and a hairbrush that clatter across the floor. The action caused the girl to flinch and Max make a sound of distress. He then hurried back down stairs, leaving her alone.

A trembling hand picked up the fabric and admired it. It was a silk blouse with lace around the collar. As the girl lifted the garment, two white ribbons fell to the floor. One was a hair ribbon, the other a much longer and wider one to be used as a belt. With another glance at the door, the child gently closed it and climbed in the tub. 

Once clean and the knots removed from her hair, she made her way down the rickety stairs and peaked around the corner to see the Hillbilly watching TV, laughing in the most ridiculous way.  
"T-thank you, s-sir.." Her voice sounding tiny against the actors on the show. Max quickly stood, lifting his chainsaw from his lap and stared at his guest. His sudden movements scared her and she hid further behind the wall. His lips twisting in a goofy grin, Max limp-sprinted to the kitchen, setting the machine in a chair and sloppily ladled the food he had 'cooked' on two plates. Turning and placing them on a table, the man excitedly waved her over. Taking small steps, the girl shuffled her way towards him, still frightened of what he could do to her. His eyes seemed to sparkle upon seeing her wearing his mother's blouse as a dress, a ribbon tied in a neat bow around her waist and the other holding her hair in a ponytail. 

With one step, he stood in front of her, lifting her up as gently as he could and sat her down at a chair, opposite of the saw. He then joined her and began eating, slopping food everywhere. The child hesitantly started eating as well. To her surprise, it tasted better than what the men that bought her used to feed her. At least it was warm, despite the meats being a tad bit raw. Once she finished, he happily offered her seconds and thirds, until she couldn't eat anymore.  
After dinner, she cleaned up as Max watched in awe, having never been taught.  
That night, Max searched through the dresser drawers for something. He grunted in victory and presented a nightgown that was far too big, but the girl gladly took it and dressed into it. He then lifted her up and placed her in bed before climbing in on the other side. Pretty soon, he was fast asleep, snoring like a buzzsaw. The child watched him for a while then scooched closer to him before drifting off, all uneasiness slowly slipping away.

~~*~~

 

A few weeks had passed and the girl no longer feared the Hillbilly. Instead, she loved being around him. Rather it was sitting in his lap watching TV or listening to the radio, running from him in play or watching him tinker with his chainsaw or tractor. She would grin every time he ruffled her hair for getting the right tool. His speech and cooking skills were improving as well. Although Max still acted like a child despite being 20 years old due to the neglect that stunted his growth. Max took care of her, protected her and they gave each other the love neither had with their families. At night, he would curl around her small body with an arm draped over her like a mother bear protecting her cub. 

For once, finally after so long, Max Thompson Jr. was loved.


End file.
